Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Vietnam and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eddi Front to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q and Not U,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Mr. Review,
Don Cherry,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Funky Four + One,
The Beau Brummels,
Camouflage,
Arab on Radar,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
Lindisfarne,
The Blues Magoos,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
Black Sheep,
Wire,
The Music Machine,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker,
Warsaw,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
LL Cool J,
KRS-One,
Black Moon,
Monks,
Newcleus,
Roxy Music,
Blake Baxter,
Mantronix,
The New Christs,
Robert Hood,
Joe Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kas Product,
Susan Cadogan,
Brass Construction,
Quantec,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.